


Beauty in Everything

by wecarryoninmindpalaces



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Another 5 + 1 fic, Confessions via text message, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mentions of Eating Disorder, Poor Yuuri is asleep for most of this, Supermodel!AU, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Victor could be a YA romance author if modeling doesn't work out, canon age compliant, model!victor, photographer!Yuuri, with a limited time frame
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-25
Updated: 2017-04-14
Packaged: 2018-09-26 19:32:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9918971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wecarryoninmindpalaces/pseuds/wecarryoninmindpalaces
Summary: Russian model Victor Nikiforov faces life and love head-on at forty thousand feet.Alternatively: Fashion photographer Yuuri Katsuki wakes up to find five fantastical stories from living sex symbol Victor Nikiforov confessing his love.





	1. New Haven, Connecticut 13 August 2016

**Author's Note:**

> So this fanfic is getting a slight adjustments! Outfits and locations will be linked in the text and certain details have been replaced or omitted entirely (I swear this story has a mind of its own.)
> 
> REGARDING THE MENTIONS OF EATING DISORDER TAG: this comes up in Chapter 6 and 7.
> 
> Enjoy the (mostly) pure fluffy goodness!

_Modeling isn't a career. You're twenty-seven soon to be twenty-eight. Your time has past._

_Retire_

_Retire_

_Retire_

The word echoes and bounces off the walls of a surprisingly cluttered mind.

Just smile, damn it! he can hear someone yell in the background. It sounds like his assistant, but they are too far off to tell.

The lights flash on a loop, strong enough to blind him if he wasn't already unfazed. There's house music pulsing in the background and someone else on set mentions it doesn't fit the atmosphere. Suddenly the black spots dancing over his eyes congeal into one blob.

Oh thank God. It's over.

A man calls, though "barks" may be a better term, for a five minute break.

The [woven red blazer](https://i.ytimg.com/vi/riv_tQR3hSc/maxresdefault.jpg) is clipped back so far he cannot slouch without the sleeves digging into his arms, the bleach white pants so tight he can barely walk let alone breathe. He knows the slight pooch on even _his_ lean stomach will be photoshopped out along with the clinging outline of his briefs, but that doesn't make him any less self-conscious as he waddles past the camera to his assistant and glam team.

It wasn't so much the clothing he got to keep or the paycheck that could support a small family that drove Victor Nikiforov to this shoot. Yes he would admit both were nice, though he had worn better and subsequently been paid better.

This was all he knew in adulthood: if he could fit into it he'd walk it, shoot it, do it all. Upon arriving to Feltsman Corp at the tender age of seventeen he was the cool androgynous one, then the pure feminine one, and now the sexy alpha one.

He ruefully wondered if he hadn't morphed so drastically would he even be in the room.

"Victor," Mila is first to voice concern, her cherry red mouth in a pout when she touches up his nose with a feather duster of a brush. "I know you don't like him, but-"

" _But you're acting like a goddamn child_." his personal assistant Yuri snaps in rapid-fire Russian and hands him a water bottle. "You wanted this shoot so damn badly, be grateful Yakov let you take it."

"I still don't know why JJ is behind the camera." another model, Christophe, joins the conversation in his fluffy white robe. Knowing him as long as Victor had, there was likely nothing underneath. "He's just going to get kicked off the set. Again." the three Russians nod in agreement.

Victor scans the set for the umpteenth time that morning. "You're right. It's just..." and leaves it at that to suddenly down the bottle in dire thirst.

"He's a douche, Katsudon will kick him out." Yuri leaves no room for disagreement and the group nods in consensus. "Where is that fatso anyway he's later than usual."

Mila nearly whacks him over the head before the door bursts open unceremoniously.

Oh wait. He's here. He must've fought past security because this was a closed set for the day and he looks like hell but he's _here._

Christophe leans into his shoulder, "Like clockwork." and is rewarded with a chuckle.

JJ is quick to raise his hands in surrender from his stance at the editor's station. "Katsuki, I _swear-"_

"I don't know who you think you are." the man snorts. "Or what you're doing hijacking my shoot, but you should go before I personally call Ms. Baranovskaya." the team stills to a halt to watch JJ snatch up his camera and laptop with a huff. "I highly suggest you hand over the those photos too." the man nonchalantly threatens before a reluctant JJ pulls out an SD card and places it square into the smaller man's palm. "Thank you."

A younger man with a red streak in his bangs enters as JJ exits, multiple bags in hand. "Yuuri-senpai! I have your equipment!"

Yuuri only smiles, "Good, Minami-kun. Set up in the dead center and I'll go from there." he glances up to find cerulean eyes locked on him like a missile. "Ah, Victor!"

The words forming in the model's throat shrivel up until all he can say is, "Yuuri!" and attempt to hide the imprint of his briefs.

Yuuri Katsuki's resumé was not so much vast as it was straight up dropping names. Vogue, Gucci, Tom Ford, Balmain, Vanity Fair... to name a few. Though he doesn't like to brag, their colleagues would fondly mention.

And _only_ twenty-three, they would brag for him. _At least_ another thirty years of Katsuki Yuuri and his work.

He doesn't like to think of how they joked about his half completed college degree when he turned twenty-four. Or how Yakov forced him to do guest appearances on crap reality TV for the past year in order to "secure a future" that had yet to arrive.

Some days he hated being Victor Nikiforov.

Others he found himself envying Yuuri Katsuki's job security.

Regardless, he was one of Victor's favorite photogs. The angles he could find and the emotions he can pull out of his subjects nearly morph and move if looked at for too long. It's otherworldly. No one knows true beauty like Yuuri.

Yuuri's hair is windswept and glasses askew as he walks past them. Victor can't help but wonder why. "I was surprised when Yakov called. I thought you were on holiday?" Yuuri calls over his shoulder, beckoning him to follow.

The model's grin is relaxed, if not a little pained as he attempts to walk comfortably. "Change of plans. Do you want me for another shot?"

Yuuri sucks in a breath. "I don't like these at all. His angles are too harsh, too..."

"Commercial?" the grin morphs into a smirk.

His brown eyes flare amber in excitement "Exactly. I'm not a fan of this outfit either." he taps his chin before finally exclaiming. "Ditch it all, grab the [adidas tracksuit](http://demandware.edgesuite.net/sits_pod20-adidas/dw/image/v2/aaqx_prd/on/demandware.static/-/Sites-adidas-products/en_US/dw302d2b58/zoom/BK7851_000_plp_model.jpg?sw=230&sfrm=jpg) and high tops. Minami-kun, keep everything where it is. We're going to the bookcases."

It was a fitting part of their locale: [the rare works library of Yale University.](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/45/e8/56/45e85613242ae03facb2d4c84f23dc8f.jpg) Victor had brushed it off as an odd idea weeks earlier. He remembers Yakov chastising him early on in his career about library shoots being for two things: back to school ads and pornos- and not to work in either. It was an irrational thing, until Yuuri posted a panoramic shot to his Instagram three days prior. Even though the Russian couldn't read kanji, the excitement was clear. Not to mention the marble paneling, the centerpiece of bookcases, the modern and yet primitive atmosphere all at once.

It was then that Victor had to beg. He hasn't had to beg for anything since his fifth show.

A quick change and swipe of his hair later and he was swinging off the side of a rolling ladder with some random book clutched in his hand. He thinks it's something in Latin as the younger man ducks underneath, taking burst after burst of shots- no flash, just the rapid shutter of his Nikon. To preserve the books, Yuuri mentioned.

The photographer grins as he flips through them quickly. "Victor, give me a smile! An actual smile." his model complies, his trademarked heart shaped smile obscured slightly by the black leather-bound book in his hands.

" _Sugoi!_ Play with the space Victor, I want to see what you'll come up with."

And play he did. Among his favorite shots were an arabesque on the ladder with a book just out of reach, an homage to Beauty and the Beast as Mila gave a quick push to send him flying down the row, fingers ghosting over spines of the books. He even hung with his legs hooked over the steps and a journal dangling from his fingers as if he'd nearly drop it. Though his favorite may be his last shot, this time in front of the marble panels. He was so bold to snatch up Yuuri's glasses and slide them on.

"My Yuuri you're _blind!"_ Victor laughs outright and Yuuri is quick to capture the moment with a chuckle of his own, never mind the soft blush tinging his cheeks.

"Got the money shot." Yuuri's smirk is nothing short of satisfied as he flips the camera around for Victor's approval. "Don't you think?" he adds hesitantly.

It's a _fantastic_ headshot. The light leaking through the marble softened his jawline and brightened his eyes in a way no photoshop program could ever replicate. The blue rimmed glasses combined with his silver tresses not only framed his face nicely, but broke up the mundanity of the black and white track jacket. It's damn near perfect with Victor tilting his head and catching just the right moment of his eyes squinting halfway shut in a laugh.

Victor nods adamantly when he marvels at the screen. "The perfect cover shot if I say so myself. You're a fantastic photographer, Yuuri." a comfortable silence proceeds until he hears his phone chime from the table. He frowns when an alert from Uber pops up.

"Time to go?" Yuuri asks sadly- sadly?

"Unfortunately." Victor holds out the man's glasses. "You should send me that one- I want it for my profile picture." Yuuri trades him for his phone and Victor taps away before sending himself a message with a camera emoji. "No pressure, take your time. I know you have others to shoot for the spread- Christophe, Sara, Otabek..." the message pops up on Victor's own phone and he hides his smile.

Yuuri smiles ruefully. "I wish you could stay, but Yakov said you have a shoot in Moscow next week?"

"And a flight back home later tonight." Victor adds for good measure before Yuri hands him his duffle bag and boarding pass. "My Uber is almost here. Keep in touch will you, Yuuri? It's been too long." 

Yuuri's smile is professional, but his voice drops somewhere into sex hotline territory, "Of course- I'll call you the next time I need my favorite model, now that you're back." as soon as it flies out of his mouth he gasps. "I-I'm sorry! That was _so_ unprofessional on my part- huh? Victor?"

He had closed the gap between them, and they could faintly hear the younger Yuri yelling for him to get in the car. He didn't care. "If that's the case call me anytime." the rasp in his voice riddles Yuuri's skin with goosebumps. "I insist, _Yura_." and with a wave and one last thanks to the team he finally leaves for the airport.

* * *

"Geez Yuuri. You gotta lock that down before someone else does."

"P-Phichit!"

Later that evening, in the comfort of his hotel room, Yuuri recounts his day on FaceTime with Phichit; his best friend and arguably biggest ally in the industry- a costume designer.

"Victor is private about all that anyway." he continues with a takeout box in his lap. "For all we know he has someone but he can't say who."

"Russia's strange like that. But then again so are some parts of the US." Phichit nods thoughtfully. "No matter! You've been going around like this since the shoot for Balmain and you've had more chances than you can count to tell him. You have his number- text him now! He won't read it for another five hours or so- and that'll give you more than enough time to plan for any scenario he throws at you."

"...Or I can let the earth swallow me up that sounds like a good option too." he deadpans.

The Thai pouts. "Think about it? Please? You have no reason not to."

He shrugs in response and gives one last wave before he crawls into bed. He begins to type something, but the duvet and lack of sleep quickly overtake him. It can wait until morning.

* * *

"You have to tell Katsudon how you feel." Yuri grumbles in first class. "You're not getting any younger." the native tongue does not deescalate the seriousness in his tone.

Victor whines next to him, munching away at a protein bar. "Don't remind me."

The younger man scowls, though his words are not as harsh. "That's not to say your contracts are drying up, you'll be working for at least another two years- God, actually eat something you'll disappear otherwise." he adds and shoves a bagel onto his tray table.

Victor's silver brows knit together in concentration, attempting to piece together his thoughts. "Yuuri has enough to worry about. You don't even know if he's into guys."

"At the Vogue luncheon last year he was very comfortable with Phichit-"

"Phichit has known Yuuri since they were at SCAD of course they are clo-" he freezes. Like a suspect clearly guilty of his crimes.

Yuri blinks. "How do you know that?" the silence is deafening and the scowl on his face deepens. " **Victor**."

He chews at his bottom lip. "I _may_ have worked with Phichit and Yuuri when they were in school."

Yuri clenches his hands rapidly, resisting the urge to grip his boss by the throat. "You've been stalking him?!" by now the businessmen and socialites are whispering in concern, one nearly calls for an attendant before he shoots her a glare and a crude English quip.

"I wouldn't call it stalking!" Victor pouts, ignoring Yuri's encounter. "Their Instagrams proudly state they are alumni- and Lilia would have told you anyway, there's nothing to hide."

"Leave that old hag out of this. He's Yuuri's best friend isn't he." the blond deadpans.

"Of course he is!" Victor's smile is nearly blinding. "He also has that mentor he still talks to- Celestino?"

" _That_ Celestino?"

"Of course! How many can there be?"

"That's it I'm calling you a stalker."

Celestino was an Italian supermodel turned high fashion photographer turned SCAD professor and department head. He was a recluse in the modeling world, though Victor claimed after getting to speak with him his charm and drive never died out. It just adapted... evolved, even.

Maybe he could adapt and evolve, too.

"Five hours- that's all I'm giving you." Yuri warns after the attendant hands them their blankets and pillows. "If you don't by the time we touch down, I'm telling him. And I won't be as nice." and with that he curled up into his chair, donned a sleeping mask, and willed himself to sleep.

Victor stares blankly at his phone, the cursor teasing him. Where does he start?

* * *

_Yuuri-_

_I have five hours to tell you how I feel. I don't know how I'm going to do it, -_ he checks the eastern time zone, nearly midnight, the younger man is probably asleep _\- but I will try anyway._

_I guess it starts at the luncheon for Vogue..._


	2. Vogue Luncheon, The Hamptons 4 July 2011

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor meets Yuuri at Christophe's behest. Yuuri says just enough to entice Victor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lines and blocks of italicized print are pieces of Victor's text message to Yuuri. Everything else is like a flashback of sorts, but not really.
> 
> Enjoy!

Americans are so obnoxious, Victor vividly remembers thinking.

But then again he was in a vintage [Chanel pussy-bow blouse](https://a.1stdibscdn.com/archivesE/upload/v_169/1454895286130/IMG_8291_l.jpg). And dark jeans tight enough to strangle a man. And black leather boots from Prada.

 

_In_   _hindsight the pot is calling the kettle black._

 

"Vitya." Yakov hissed, pulling him off the wraparound porch and back into the fray. "Christophe is here. Be social, eat, drink- but don't do anything stupid." and before Victor can utter a word, he taps the intricately wound bun at the base of his neck. "And don't let your hair down, or I'll cut it like you should have months ago."

"Wouldn't dream of it." his laugh is hollow and before his agent can scowl he's already back in the throngs of the rich and famous.

 

_But as you already know, I take Yakov's threats very lightly._

 

There's a leggy blonde with a guitar trying to grab his attention from across the lobby turned banquet hall; but he pays her, and her whining, no mind as Christophe slinks up beside him.

"Victor~ Minako brought her boy toy again. He looks so lost." he pouts.

The older man chuckles, "That was you two years ago don't act so superior." they round the corner towards the back of the property.

Christophe Giacometti, age twenty: one of Switzerland's most sought after talents and Victor's closest friend in the industry for nearly five years. He had opened himself up for controversy overseas after a video of him "dancing adulterously" leaked online.

 

_The hypocrisy was laughable. Still is, in my opinion._

 

"Me? Superior? _Non_. Let's introduce ourselves, get him comfortable. Who knows, we may run into him again- that is, if he doesn't bolt for the door first." his smirk is killer as he swipes Victor a beer from the open bar. " _Ura_."

" _Spasibo_ \- Cheers." he takes a swig but nearly retches at the taste, dropping it on an empty table without a second thought.

The brick path to the gardens opened up to a wide landing filled with beautiful women and more drinks. "Ms Minako!"

Minako Okukawa, age unknown though believed to be immortal: one of the original supermodels of the eighties and nineties, is on a first name basis with Naomi, Tyra, and Heidi. Does not get along with Gisele, though tries to hide it.

The [dress](https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-mnJYghxFSaM/TWh9EOTFh3I/AAAAAAAAHps/hIlyr-qaWd8/s1600/diane_von_furstenberg_vintage_wrap_dress.jpg) is designed for a younger demographic, but she pulls it off like a dream, with a glass of merlot in her hand and a blush rapidly spreading across her cheeks."Christophe! And Victor! This is a pleasant surprise." she smirks. "What can I do for you?"

Victor tilts his head. "Your... friend? Christophe said he looks a little lonely, do you mind terribly if we show him around?"

Her eyes brighten with mischief before she slips back into the hotel. Christophe chuckles as he leans on Victor's shoulder. "You know she never moves that quickly."

The luncheon wasn't so much a networking luncheon as it was a guise to get drunk, gossip, risk being snapped by the tabloids, and launch off fireworks. But the entire hotel was rented out for the weekend, and the staff turned a blind eye to their antics, so everyone was happy.

Not five minutes later she returns with a younger man in tow. The pair are quickly taken aback by dark hair, glasses, chubby cheeks, and the most _stereotypical_ white dress shirt and navy shorts combination with boat shoes. Still, Victor thinks his heart might stop.

 

_At least you didn't wear a tie, Yuuri._

 

"This is my godson, Yuuri Katsuki. He's a rising freshman at Savannah College of Art and Design- SCAD for short." Minako is obviously proud, but Yuuri only blushes pink. "This is Christophe Giacometti," they briefly shake hands, and he shyly greets him. "And this is Victor Niki-"

"Hello Yuuri!" Victor interjects, his accent thick with excitement and tall frame looming over him like a willow.

"...forov."

 

_I thought I had scared you off._

 

Yuuri's smile is timid. "Hello Victor." his English is smooth and confident, much to the pair's surprise. "Your Gucci shoot was lovely. But they should have included the dress you had in the spread."

He raises an eyebrow in surprise, though his smile remains in tact. "...Where did you see that?"

 

_The first of many surprises you would give me, Yuuri._

 

"My sister Mari was on the set with Minako-sensei."

"I took pictures." she shrugs. "Yuuri wanted them for research purposes- he's a photography major."

His cerulean eyes brighten. "Then you must come down with us to the beach! Be our photographer for the day! We can build up your portfolio!"

He squeaks, his line of sight somewhere off in the trees. "Ah, my portfolio is mostly conceptual photography-"

"Whatever you want we'll do it!" the Russian is insistent, "Right Chris?"

"Any reason to get out of these clothes." he whines, tugging at his khaki slacks just enough to reveal the burgundy Speedos underneath.

Yuuri is left unfazed. "If you really want to... let me grab my camera."

 

_You didn't talk at all on the walk over, you were so focused on exposure and saturation and shadows and so many other things that we didn't think would make a difference. At first I thought I had been speaking in Russian the entire time._

_Chris confirmed I was not._

 

The breeze coming from the north was welcoming, the sand warm but not scorching. It doesn't take long for Christophe to strip down to that aforementioned burgundy Speedo, meanwhile Victor unbuttons his blouse and peels off his pants to reveal a matching black pair and stores their clothes in a packing cube.

Yuuri, still fully clothed save his shoes, eyes the massive knot Victor called a bun. "You should let your hair down- at least in a ponytail."

The older man takes it as a command and eagerly begins unfurling his hair. Bobby pins spring from every direction and clear hair ties snap under expanding pressure until a long trail of silver hits the middle of his back. Yuuri holds in a chuckle.

"I just love your hair." Christophe coos as he frames Victor's face with some flyaway strands and carefully untangles any knots with a comb.

 

_I was fifteen when Howl's Moving Castle was released. I was fascinated with his hair, but I think(?) I promised Mama I wouldn't let it grow past my shoulders. Oops._

_I remember you told us to do whatever made us comfortable. Christophe ran straight for the water, you and I stayed at the shore watching like parents. You took a few candid shots and the way Chris' face lit up at what he saw..._

 

"Yuuri, do me next!"

 

_I got a little bit jealous._

 

"Eh? Victor I don't-"

"What is conceptual photography anyway, Yuuri?" he cuts him off. "Tell me how it works."

"I-it's storytelling, essentially. You piece together a story in as many or as few pictures as you like." the younger man adjusts the focus of his lens until he's content.

"Then tell me a story." Victor glances out at the horizon, already hearing the shudder of the lens. "Tell me what you see."

"A beautiful man." Yuuri says with no hesitation, yet his face turns scarlet when the older man's head snaps one frame too fast to face him. He hides behind his camera and continues to snap away.

"You think I'm beautiful?" Victor leans in closer, his smile growing.

"I-I see beauty in everything and everyone." he stutters, leaning back until his equilibrium is lost and lands flat on the sand with an "oof". Nevertheless, he takes another picture of Victor leaning over him with an outstretched hand and a heart shaped smile.

 

_Yes, Yuuri, you certainly do_

_The rest of the evening is a blur, though I know Yakov lectured me for getting sand in my hair while Minako dragged you off for the fireworks._

_I wouldn't see you until the following year, but you were on my mind almost every day between our time at the beach and the run-in in Hasetsu._

_I think I fell in love with you that day. But I know haven't stopped loving you since._

_Sleep well, Yura._

_-V._

* * *

Victor looks at his watch and realizes it's only a quarter to one on the east coast. It didn't take long to write at all, he triumphs silently. He beat the clock by over four hours. Pleased with his message, he taps send and with a whoosh it's been delivered to Yuuri's inbox.

But what if he doesn't remember? What if Yuuri doesn't believe him and thinks it's a sick joke? Victor frowns with the tap of his chin. Only one way to be sure:

 

_You remember Hasetsu, right?_

_...Well, in case you forgot-_

* * *

Meanwhile, Yuuri shifts positions in his hotel bed as the phone slips out his hand onto the empty space beside him; the sheets muffling the vibration of one unread iMessage.


	3. Uniqlo Shoot, Hasetsu, 8 August 2012

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor takes a gig right down the street from Yuuri. Yuuri takes one too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is heavily inspired by the new Victor figurine released a week or so ago (you know the one), along with a couple references back to the source content! (You'll know it when you see it. Because I'm corny like that.)
> 
> Just like the last chapter: italicized sentences and blocks are Victor's text message to Yuuri, the rest is like a flashback but not really.
> 
> Enjoy!

_Mama Katsuki told me you had been out running errands with Vicchan since lunch. She figured you would be gone until dinner, and I just wanted to unwind after the flight.  
_

_It may be a few years too late but I **am** sorry if I made you uncomfortable that day._

 

A timid voice called from the edge of the bath. "Victor? Why are you here?"

 Victor glances up and he knows that voice is Yuuri, but he _swears_ that face is not. Whatever baby fat that he had last summer was replaced by carved out cheekbones, a sharper jawline, and slimmer physique. Victor also noticed his shirt hung off him almost two sizes too big.

 

_I_   _would love you at any size Yuuri, but I wondered: aren't you supposed to gain weight in college?_

_...And then what if those were someone else's clothes_.

 

He lazily floats to the other end of the bath before rising to collect his robe. "Yuuri!" he reaches for the younger's hand. "I'm here for a weeklong shoot with Uniqlo! Surprise~!"

"Eh?! Uniqlo?" Yuuri helps him out as gracefully as one can without getting wet. "Really?"

"They like the hair. And my international appeal." Victor winks, the student notes the equivalent of a beehive is pulled up high and dry on top of his head.

He notes Yuuri is only looking up, past his line of sight, as if he will gaze upon something he shouldn't see if he looks down.

"We're shooting in a street market not too far from here, and I think they wanted some shots in Mianko's studio too. ...You should come observe!" he bounces eagerly. "Could you consider it an internship? What are you even doing here doesn't school start soon?"

"Ah, school doesn't start for another couple weeks- I leave on Friday so I can get readjusted though." he finally answers, though Victor pouts regardless. "Internships are approved by the department weeks ahead of time, it's too short notice. But if you want I'll go along whenever I can, be your translator if you need it." he smiles encouragingly.

"I'd love you forever if you did!" Victor disregards the gasp catching in Yuuri's throat when he throws his arms around him in a waist-cinching hug. "My Yuuri you shrunk. Do they not feed you in college?"

"SCAD's buildings are all over the city, I missed the commuter bus more often than not so I would walk. And luckily for me my roommate knew how to cook on a budget, so we didn't have junk food much. We requested to be together again this year, but I don't know if that will happen." Yuuri explains as he tries to wiggle free of Victor's grip.

"Aw, Yuuri I thought you liked me?" his pout deepens, finally releasing him.

"I'm trying my best to stay dry." he hands Victor a towel with a small smirk. "Oh! You should stay for dinner if you can, Mom's katsudon is the best. A-and don't mind Vicchan- my dog. He's somewhere around here, but he's harmless."

Victor snorts. "Makkachin and Vicchan will be fine I'm sure. They're poodles, not pit bulls-"

"Yuuri!" Mama Katsuki calls from inside.

He responds in hurried Japanese before returning his attention to a half naked Victor. "I have to help around the onsen, but feel free to stop by after you wrap for the day."

"I'm staying _here_ for the week so you'll be seeing me a bit, Yuuri." Victor's smile is devilish as worst and teasing at best. "Quick favor, can you take a picture of me in the bath for Instagram?"

"Minako." he whispers frantically, followed by something Victor could not catch. "Uh, Victor, we don't let people take photos in the bath."

"Really?!"

 

_She told me you'd react like that._

_I remember how excited you were for pork cutlet bowls. I can never pronounce katsudon right, damn my Russian tongue. I think it sounds better coming from you, anyway._

_I had four blissful days with you, Yuuri. The longest period I've had you to myself. I know I'm selfish for wanting more, but I always have been. Selfish, I mean._

_So selfish I bribed Mama Katsuki and Mari to let you skip your chores so you could come with me to the shoot._

 

"Victor! Arch your back slightly- yes good, just like that!" the younger man praises the following morning.

He's laying flat on the ground, angling upward and diagonally to accentuate Victor's already tall, lean frame. Any sane person would still be asleep on an early Sunday morning, but Yuuri and the photographer knew better than to let the sunrise go to waste.

The slacks are just tight enough to see the obvious curvature of his backside, the white button-up popped open to reveal flawless porcelain skin. The female photographer doesn't seem to mind that her shoot has been hijacked, in fact she advises Yuuri throughout with a fond smile. She whispers, though there's no point because Victor can't understand her anyway; while he attempts to piece together her comments through gauging Yuuri's reaction.

 

_You blushed more often than not. I wasn't sure if it was from praise or if she thought we were together._

_Each night when we finally made it in the baths you filled the silence telling me all about college and roommates and the like. You made it sound so fun, at one moment you encouraged me to take some classes._

_And I did, though I only completed two years before..._

_Well, I don't have to tell you, you already know._

_I loved when we took Vicchan and Makkachin down to the shore more than anything else. Oh did we try our best to stay dry. Makkachin sometimes smells like saltwater and Vicchan's shampoo for no reason, even now! I told Yakov's nephew and now he thinks I'm crazy._

_Still, every night before I went to sleep I wished we had more time._

 

"I understand, absolutely." Yuuri is pacing in the hall outside his bedroom late Tuesday night and Victor doesn't like what he hears from the threshold of his own room. Makkachin whines sadly. "No Celestino I can change my flights in time. Yes... ...uh huh, okay. ...Ciao." he catches the older man on the cusp of his peripherals. "I woke you, didn't I? Sorry."

"Never went to bed." Victor treads lightly into the hall. "Everything okay?"

He fidgets slightly, "My professor is hosting a gallery in Atlanta and wants me to network, maybe put up my own pieces if we can have them ready in time. It's on Friday evening, so I would have to leave tomorrow in order to be of any use..."

"Well you can't pass that up!" Victor's mouth moves faster than his brain. "Pack your bags and go straight to bed, I'll call the airliner and tell them to transfer your flights."

"Are you sure?" Yuuri's eyes flicker with apprehension, like the amber in them could be snuffed out with one word. "Victor if you can't-"

"Absolutely! Maybe I can even get you in first class." he cannot help but smile with a wink, "Don't worry Yuuri, I'll get you home- sorry, I know it's not-"

"No, no you're right." Yuuri waves his hands with fervor. "Savannah is a second home despite only being there for a short time. Of course I miss _here_ ," he gestures generically. "Like I'm sure you miss Russia."

"I do, sometimes. The cold, the scenery... the vodka." he smirks. "Other things... not so much."

_Like the homophobia and the mounting international tension- but who pays attention to that, right?_

"I can handle it." Victor gently pulls the phone from Yuuri's hands and plugs it in on the table. "Just go to bed. Please, Yuuri?" and when a resigned sigh escapes the photographer's lips he knows he had won. Sort of.

 

_Your flight was easy enough to change. Yakov **still** doesn't know I charged the difference to the company card. To be fair you were in a dire situation- and I memorized those numbers a long, **long** time ago._

 

The pair stand at the security checkpoint early Wednesday morning for as long as they can without Yuuri missing his flight.

Surprisingly, the younger man is the first to speak. "Thank you for doing all of this." he rolls his luggage back and forth nervously. "I don't think I could've done it without you."

Victor only grins, reaching out to fix a stray lock of hair back into place. "This could be your big break, Yuuri. I want you to have every opportunity to exceed your potential. And reproduction rights to any and all prints you distribute."

"V-Victor!"

"Kidding, kidding!" the model laughs, "Enjoy the flight, the food is much better than coach. And the seats move all the way back, so you can adjust your body clock once you're comfortable. Fourteen hours is nothing to joke about." he warns. "You'll feel like shit if you don't sleep on the plane."

"Right, I know," Yuuri nods earnestly, chewing absentmindedly at his already chapped lips. "I better go. Good luck with the rest of the shoot."

"Call your mother when you get to San Francisco." Victor reminds him and Yuuri waves a hand in acknowledgement as the glass doors leading into the checkpoint slide shut behind him.

 

_I_   _should have told you to call me too._

 

He doesn't acknowledge the ache in his chest or how halfhearted his effort is for the rest of the shoot. Sure, they looked nice, but if someone stared at them for too long they could tell his eyes were flat, lifeless, void of emotion.

If Mama Katsuki can tell Victor is moping she doesn't mention it, only thanking him with a swift peck on the cheek, long lazy braids that he refuses to unfurl, and katsudon. She jokes he is too skinny. He only laughs and asks for seconds.

 

_You have no idea how difficult it was for me to let you leave like that. And the time after that. And this afternoon when you looked so disappointed that I was the one leaving._

_One day, if you let me, I will always be by your side. At the end of the day we can be in a hot spring, or a hotel room, or an airplane, wherever- it doesn't matter: I will be there._

_-V._

* * *

He hums a tune he hasn't shook yet, and taps send before he can think better of it.

"Victor?" Yuri groans, yanking off his face mask. "How much longer?"

"We have another three and a half hours before we land." Victor whispers, the cabin filled with sleeping passengers.

The teen rubs the sleep from his eyes. "You tell the fatso how you feel yet?"

"I sent one." he furrows his brow line, "But I felt it wasn't enough so I just sent him another."

"God old man just write five and really get the point across. Katsudon is dense about feelings anyway." Yuri grumbles, already half asleep.

"Yuri that's brilliant!" the older man whispers excitedly. "What should I say? Oh I know-!

Yuri quickly snaps awake with a yell, "No stupid that's not what I meant-!"

_"SHHHH!"_

* * *

Yuuri's phone buzzes again, this time the brightness stirs him from sleep just long enough for him to make out the notification of a message before it darkens again.

In the morning, he thinks before his head hits the pillow once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Yuuri takes a connecting flight to Atlanta from San Francisco. San Francisco is a major hub for international and domestic flights to and from Asia (especially Japan). It's not realistic to have Yuuri fly nonstop for multiple reasons I won't bore you with. Kudos to my dad (aka resident aviation nerd) for drilling that into my brain from a young age.
> 
> Big thank you to everyone who comments and leaves kudos and subscribes like oh my god you guys are the BEST! *insert heart eyes emoji here*


	4. SCAD College of Art & Design, 26 April 2013

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor learns it truly is a small world after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this has been sitting in my drafts for nearly a month, I couldn't figure out a way to end this chapter smoothly. Plus I'm almost positive it's the longest chapter to date. But I'm back on track! We're a little over halfway there! 
> 
> Phichit, Yuuri, and Seung-gil are all 20/21 in this chapter- there's actually a 2/3 year age difference in the anime that I totally didn't catch. Everyone else's ages are canon compliant.
> 
> *also noticed that Beauty in Everything was mentioned by victuurificrec on tumblr and I could just DIE of happiness rn*
> 
> Enjoy!

_You know I wasn't a hallucination at the fashion show, right Yuuri?_

 

"Vitya, I need you in Savannah."

Victor knows that voice.

 

_Yakov's " there is no room for refusal, you will do this" voice. Not fun_.

 

"What?" is the only thing he can say as he towel-dries Makkachin in their Manhattan hotel room.

He puts his phone on speaker before his agent continues. "I owe Lilia a favor and you're the only one available in the country. You _will_ do this."

 

_They're divorced yet she pulls that. Can you believe it?_

 

"Is it a show?" no, Fashion Week had come and gone already. "A shoot?" he had wrapped a commercial with Chanel the previous day for some cologne he wasn't expected to wear, though "highly encouraged."

"A final at The Savannah College of Art and Design. She needs one more "capable" model for her students' fashion show."

Savannah College of Art and Design? Why does that sound so familiar-? wait- Yuuri! Yuuri's there! Kind, sweet, adorable Yuuri Katsuki with his amber eyes and shy smile and thick-

 

_I'm getting carried away- anyway~_

 

"I'll go, absolutely!" he scratches behind Makkachin's ears before letting the pooch scamper off. "Get me booked on the next flight!"

"Good." his agent grunts. "At least you didn't put up a fight about it. I'll forward your boarding pass." and hangs up at that.

"Makkachin I get to see your second favorite human." Victor coos happily. "I'm sure he's happy school is almost over. Oh! Maybe he'll be back with Minako this summer, and we can play together on Long Island? Would you like that Makkachin? Would you?" he's slobbered with kisses and yips of excitement. "This week I will ask Yuuri on a proper date. Court him like the suave, dashing gentleman I am." he glances in the mirror at his halfnakedness. "With slightly more clothes." he tucks his hair behind his ears and begins nitpicking at the face in the mirror like he had every morning since he was a child.

Not much has changed, though his nose is slightly red from the pollen count and the bags he desperately attempts to conceal under his eyes have grown darker. He swears he loses more hair every time he pulls a brush through it, maybe enough to make a wig if he wanted.

"...Vitya's going bald." he mimics cynically.

 

_I_   _was in fittings from the time I arrived to the afternoon before the show. I would never do another favor for Yakov again_.

 

"Can you hold still please?" a young man with decent similarity to Yuuri grinds his teeth- with a dash of annoyance for good measure. "It's your fault if I stick you."

Victor had been fidgeting for the better part of an hour, wiggling his hips and tapping his feet. "That's fine, I've had worse- ow!" the pin pricks his wrist unforgivingly.

He snorts. "Of course you have. It's done, just relax your shoulders and I'll get it off." and carefully slips the model out of the wool and leather coat before shrugging it over the mannequin by his workbench. "If I didn't say it before; I'm very honored to have you wearing my piece, Mr. Nikiforov."

"Don't you mean _our_ piece, Seung-gil?" a boy with deep skin and cinnamon eyes chimes from the doorway with a tray of coffee cups in hand.

"Yes, yes Phichit _our_ piece." Seung-gil parrots as he turns on his sewing machine. "He's my collaborator."

"Seung-gil's got an eye for structure and measurements- and not much else." the man laughs. "I sketch and dictate materials and colors. I guess you could say he's the left brain of fashion and I'm the right."

Victor smiles halfheartedly with a sip of his black coffee. "Very fitting."

Phichit furrows his brow, "Are you tired Mr. Nikiforov-?"

"Please call me Victor."

Seung-gil cuts in. "Victor. You can go, you've got a busy day tomorrow."

"Actually I'm trying to find someone here- a photography major. I know the campus is... weird-"

 

_Unorthodox was the word I was looking for._

 

"-So if you don't know it's alright."

"We know a few!" Phichit smiles brightly. "Who could infamous Russian bachelor Victor Nikiforov be looking for here?"

"Oh, ah," Victor stumbles over his own question. "His name is Yuuri. Yuuri Katsuki?"

The pair exchange a quick look across the room and shrug indifferently.

"Yeah we know him." they speak as one.

"...Can you tell me where he is?"

"He's not going to be of much use to you." Seung-gil drones as the machine whirs softly. "He's a mess around finals, probably locked himself in the darkroom again like last year." Phichit nods, and sighs, in agreement.

Last year?

"Yuuri locks himself in a dark room?" Victor grabs his rucksack and the keys for his rental.

"Absolutely- it's rarely touched anymore." Seung-gil shrugs as he removes the pins along the arm. "Darkrooms are obsolete with technology the way it is. The newest rumor is they're turning it into a green screen unit next fall. But for now, it's unofficially his."

"He uses it as a private editing space." Phichit explains. "Gives him somewhere to work that isn't the massive, and usually crowded, public studio space. We had to drag him out during midterms so he'd eat."

The other man shrugs. "I didn't see him for two days, but I think it bothered Phichit more than me." he flips the over for more embroidering.

"You're the worst- thank God Yuuri decided to move in with me instead."

Everything clicks into place then. "Wait- Seung-gil, were you Yuuri's roommate?"

"Who did you think it was?" Phichit beams a little too brightly. "Seung-gil is living off campus this year, and I knew Yuuri from-"

"Overstaying your welcome." Seung-gil deadpans, not even looking up from his work.

"...We have a good time." Phichit winks regardless and Victor visibly pales. "Not like that!"

 

_Phichit is fun, I can see how you get along. Seung-gil though? I can't. I'm sorry._

 

Victor scratches the back of his neck almost shyly, "...Would you mind taking me to him. I don't care if he's holed up somewhere, I haven't seen him in nearly a year."

 

_I almost called it fate._

 

Phichit could light up the damn Eiffel Tower with the smile on his face. "Then let's go! To Bergen Hall!"

"...And where are we now?"

"Eckburg. I hope those sneakers are broken in." Seung-gil smirks. "Take him, Phichit, I need to finish this before Lilia kicks me out. See you in the morning."

 

_Phichit wanted me to have "the full experience." You weren't kidding about the walking Yuuri._

 

"So are you and Yuuri dating?" the designer asks halfway through.

Victor glances to his side to find the man tapping away on his phone.

"What?"

Oh, he's imagining things now. "Sorry, I thought you said-"

"Are you and Yuuri dating." he returns to his phone. "Don't make me ask three times."

The model shakes his head. "No, no we're not. We barely see each other, between my work and him being here- we talk through social media sometimes."

 

_When I say talk I mean three emojis and a hashtag. On my part, anyway._

 

"Oh." Phichit pouts. "Don't get me wrong it's normal for Yuuri to have pictures all over the room. ...But most of them are of you, so I thought-"

"He has pictures of me?" he's practically bouncing at the thought. "Which ones?"

The younger man taps his chin. "He's particularly fond of a set from the beach- It was the focal point of his finals portfolio last year. I must admit: the mundanity of it all was ingenious. Who hasn't seen a beach shoot before? It's all the same. But the way you looked at Yuuri wasn't- plus the professor nearly had a heart attack when he realized who the subject was."

"How did I look?" Victor is suddenly apprehensive to ask. Too sexy? Too indifferent? Too... eager? Yuuri hadn't mentioned any of that, but then again he didn't say much and Victor barely remembers anything past the photog saying he was beautiful. The rest was a blur for some reason.

"I told him you looked like you were in love. Yuuri panicked, told me it wasn't possible."

 

_Not possible why, Yuuri?_

 

"I won't press, but if you do feel that way... Please tell him soon." the younger man continues.

"Of course."

 

_Still haven't, three almost four years later. These things take time!_

 

"Yuuri! We got you something that can help with your nerves!" Phichit mercilessly bangs on the door to the darkroom not ten minutes later.

"Unless it's coffee or Vicchan I don't want it." a muffled, slightly dejected, voice comes from the other side.

"Cmon you've been in there for almost two days- you're gonna break your record soon." he jokes, though his face is constricted with concern.

There's no reply, only clicking and a groan one could only describe as a wounded animal.

Phichit finally shrugs after a solid two minutes with a raise of his voice. "...Alright Victor guess that means it's back to Russia for you."

 

_Three._

_Two._

_One._

 

"Victor?" Yuuri cracks the door just enough for the man in question to get a decent grip and fling it open. "WHA-?!"

Victor's heart shaped smile is oddly genuine for someone who had been up a full day. "Surprise~! I'm here for the runway show with your friends!"

"Victor!" Yuuri stumbles out of the room worse for wear. His hair barely brushed, glasses askew, in pajamas with _puppies_ on them- a far cry from the suave Yuuri he's seen prior.

"Wow. They weren't kidding about locking yourself in there." Victor steadies him with a soft, yet firm, hold on his shoulders.

"But my portfolio is finished and submitted." he cheers warily, slightly swaying. " _Oyasumi_ ~"

"Yuuri!"

Before Victor can register his actions he's holding the sleeping beauty bridal style. The fantasy had made appearances before, just not like that.

"Well then." Phichit snorts. "Let's get him back to the room."

 

_I thank whatever God that assigned your dorm so close to Bergen Hall._

 

"Wow." Victor glances at the wall running along Yuuri's bed. "I forgot some of these existed." he runs his fingers over the magazine spreads and commercial grade posters as if they'll transport him back in time. His shots are scattered across landscapes and collages featuring people Victor had never met- friends of Yuuri's, most likely. "Yuuri's godmother is a model too, she probably collected these for-" his breath catches at a smaller picture in the corner by the closet door.

"You okay?" Phichit cocks his head from his perch of a bed.

"Mm," Victor nods in acknowledgment.

[The Gucci dress.](https://silkpathdiary.files.wordpress.com/2011/02/00020m.jpg) The one that matched his eyes so beautifully, made his legs stretch for miles, made him almost free of himself.

The one that never saw the light of day.

The one Yuuri told him he enjoyed regardless.

Phichit hangs over the side of the bed. "He said that one was a concept shot, never made the final spread."

"He's right." he smiles sadly. "I remember demanding that I do a test shot. I wanted to know what it felt like more than anything else- I wanted to know if I would feel beautiful if I was wearing it. I had always walked that fine line of androgyny- the temptation to hurl myself over it in either direction was like nothing else. ...But, I think that time has passed- for me, anyway. Let someone else make history." the world had enough of Victor Nikiforov to last a lifetime.

Phichit smiles at that. "If you would ever want to... Seung-gil and I can come up with something."

"Thank you, really." he glances back to Yuuri, who is splayed out on the bed without a care in the world. "You think he's going to wake up anytime soon?"

"...Unfortunately I wouldn't count on it. But! He'll be in the audience tomorrow taking pictures for us!" the Thai assures him. "You should get to your room before the town shuts down for the night. Your call time is nine, show is at noon. Drive safe!"

 

_The next day was... not tough, just odd._

 

"I thought Yakov said you had cut your hair." Lilia frowns the next morning, or as much as the Botox would let her, her hands slipping through his ponytail like silk. "Really Vitya I told you long hair was out at your shoot with Prada how many years ago?"

"Two." Victor's voice is razor sharp.

"And yet you wonder why no one booked you this summer." she purses her lips. "You're growing dull, Vitya. Boring. Stale."

 

_She knew every trigger._

 

"But I can fix that," she concludes before demanding for scissors and shaving shears. "There's three hours to show time. I trust my managers to be competent enough for one hour. That's all it'll take." she cards through his hair one last time, he can already feel the cool metal drawn at the nape of his neck.

" _Prekrati eto_ -"

Before the last syllable had left his mouth he could hear the jarring cut of the blade- and then Lilia is dropping the ponytail in his lap for good measure. He doesn't feel sick so much as he feels like he's lost a limb. 

Lilia tousles it quickly before expertly parting it down the middle. "A new monster is born today, Victor Nikiforov." she snips more away; content if not satiated.

 

_Monsters can be pretty too, you know._

 

"Oh my god! Did a crazy stalker get ahold of you?!" Phichit wails when Victor comes through the door not a half hour later.

He feels for the hair that no longer exists. "Lilia cut it. I think she's been plotting this for a while." he attempts to joke.

"Do you like it?" Seung-gil asks patiently from his workbench.

He shrugs. "It was time for a change. I'll miss it, yes, but it's going to surprise a lot of people." Phichit chuckles at that, and Victor can't help but grin. "How's the line?"

"Just about ready. We're starting with the coat, you'll walk in the suit next, and then the final walk. And that's it, after that we all go home for the summer." the Korean claps his hands triumphantly despite his cold exterior.

"Well, some of us." Phichit grins cheekily. "Others have internships to pack for. Like me! Jaqueline Dunnard, can you believe it?! She won the Oscar this year and-!"

Victor tunes out the pair in exchange for scouting out a certain Japanese photographer.

He looks for Yuuri wantonly even as he glides down the runway, the cameras flashing excitedly and the chatter surrounding his new cut a faint twinkling and a faint hum.

And then a particularly bright flash is ignited from the very back of the room. Call him crazy, but Victor knows that flash.

 

_Why did you hide?_

 

"Victor! I have prints for your portfolio!" Yuuri tugs on his sleeve not an hour later at the reception.

Phichit is nowhere to be found and neither is Seung-gil. Victor has also lost Lilia, who at last location was bragging about "Vitya's transformation."

But perhaps that is for the best.

Victor carefully leafs through his sparse shots as far away from prying eyes as the space allowed them. "I could have gotten you a seat Yuuri." he pouts, "If it meant you got more shots for your portfolio- these are lovely, just like your others."

"You don't think I'm plateauing at twenty do you?" he jokes, though the chapped lips and bitten indents say otherwise.

"Absolutely not." the model assures him quickly, "But there is only so much one can do from the back of an auditorium. Even you, Yuuri." he hands the folder back as a very frustrated

 

_though she always looks like that_

 

Lilia clicks towards them. "Lilia!"

"I'm not here for you Victor I'm here for _him_." she points a freshly manicured finger square into Yuuri's collarbone. "You are Minako's boy, yes."

"Y-yes, ma'am." Yuuri nods obediently.

"You're on the Balmain shoot with my Christophe next month." she scowls knowingly, snatching the folder from the terrified young man before quickly deciphering each glossy photo with a critical eye. "They are all Victor. Why."

The telltale signs of Yuuri's anxiety take ahold. "I-I'm friends with Seung-gil and Phichit, they wanted pictures for reference-"

"I actually like that coat, you think your friend would sell it?" Victor smoothly derails the interrogation.

The younger man gapes. "To you? Absolutely."

Victor knew the amount of business, not to mention free publicity, Seung-gil would receive would give him a leg up come internship opportunities. Hell, he could probably commission both him and Phichit and make them even _more_ desirable.

"I see." she nods, handing them back. "You need a better camera. I will tell Celestino to lend you his Canon for Berlin. You will buy your own after the check clears, understand?"

Yuuri looks ready to die if not turn into stone from the cold eyes locked on his sternum. "Ah, yes."

"I will see you in Berlin, then." she smiles, though it's more of a smirk, and returns to the reception. Just like that.

"...Victor what the hell just happened." Yuuri turns up to face him.

"That would be Lilia Baranovskaya." he clears his throat. "The real life Devil in Prada. Or for today, anyway."

 

_The Chanel blouse from the luncheon was hers. She never asked where it went. Or the other pieces she's hoarded over the years that I managed to borrow from her house that summer._

 

"You didn't tell me you had a shoot with Balmain, that contract had been sitting in my inbox for weeks!" he continues with a whine. "Christophe's only there because I said no! I'm so disappointed~"

Yuuri's smile is warm, and Victor swears it's not just to be friendly. "There will be plenty of times for you and I to be together, Victor. I believe that. Now, I do have a question."

"What is it-?" a tiny gasp escapes Victor's throat at the soft hands carefully tugging at his hair.

"It's not a wig, is it?"

"...Lilia cut it all off this morning. You hate it don't you- I need whatever formula Miley Cyrus used when she chopped hers off-"

"No no! I like it. It's a nice change. Means I can do more headshots." Yuuri grins cheekily. "Keep it, it suits you."

 

_and kept I did._

_I wasn't a fan of the lookbook that year, Christophe looked too sexy for someone in what was basically a[stripped down military uniform.](http://www.secondkulture.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/07/Balmain-Fall-Winter-2014-Lookbook-Menswear-Anders-Hayward-Karim-Sadli-18.jpg) It was meant to be serious and I couldn't help but laugh when he showed me the final look._

_The following year? Now **that** was fun._

_Because you were right next to me the whole time. And hopefully you'll have me for the rest of our time, too._

_-V_

* * *

"Victor this is a bad idea." Yurio scowls from his seat, now completely awake with nearly two hours to landing. "You know how high your cell phone bill is going to be?!"

"I'll expense it, this is important!" Victor laments, an espresso cup firmly in his hand as he hits send. "If I don't tell Yuuri everything now I never will." he knocks it back with a shudder.

"Unreal," his assistant mumbles, snatching his own phone off the tray table: one new message from Otabek.

 

> **-he's still going?**
> 
>   
>  -damn fool.
> 
>   
> - **I think it's nice.**
> 
>   
>  -DON'T ENCOURAGE HIM!

 

* * *

_Vrrr! Vrrr! Vrrrrrrrrr!_

Yuuri groans and flips his phone facedown.

If it rings one more time he'll just turn it off until morning. It's getting annoying.

Who would be texting him in the middle of the night anyway?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *RIP Victor's long hair*
> 
> Christophe's Balmain lookbook is actually from 2014 but 2013 is legit gorgeous. We're gonna pretend it's from 2013 anyway for plot's sake. Next chapter will be pieces from the 2015 shoot bc BOI ITS FUNNY AF.


	5. Balmain Fall Winter Show, Paris Fashion Week 9 January 2014

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor and Yuuri are together at Paris Fashion Week 2014, Victor let's one too many things spew from his mouth.

Victor doesn't understand fashion sometimes. Yakov always take this opportunity to quote Coco Chanel- a bad habit of Lilia's whenever her own models bitch and moan:

Fashion is what is given to you, style is how you make it yours.

This is one of those times.

"Victor, it's not that bad." Yuuri snorts behind his sleeve.

The model frowns to the mirror, thickening his accent for good measure. "I look like bad Russian stereotype, Yuuri." and with that the photographer loses all restraint, laughing loud, long, and clear.

He's covered head to toe in [leather](https://d36di5nvqr47bo.cloudfront.net/photos/12199/49948/balmain-homme-menswear-fall-winter-2015-paris-12199-looks-20150122-582608/Balmain-Homme-Menswear-FW15-Paris-6431-1421928542-thumb.jpg). And not even the soft, buttery, pebbled leather he had in last month's ad campaign for Calvin Klein. Nooooo, this was the kind of leather that was borderline latex: shiny, kind of stretchy, and squeaked whenever he walked, sat, cracked his back- anything involving movement really. The palazzo style pants pool at his feet and all he wishes is to be two inches taller.

"I will say this, it's nothing I've ever shot before." Yuuri finally says after he's come back down from his laughter induced high.

But then he looks at that _hat_ and he's gone again.

Victor pouts at that. "Yes, yes, straight from the mouth of fashion's hottest up and coming photographer according to Buzzfeed."

"And Teen Vogue!" the younger man chimes happily.

The Russian can't help but smile. "And Teen Vogue, yes."

Yuuri's career had taken off at a breakneck speed since their last encounter- and he hadn't even graduated yet!

Of course the photographer would go viral after Victor posted a candid shot for Throwback Thursday right before Thanksgiving. Just a selfie Victor had managed to snap last Spring before Celestino dragged Yuuri back into the fray of the reception hall. Nothing out of the ordinary.

 

> " _Victor Nikiforov gives shoutout to up and coming fashion photographer Yuuri Katsuki on his Instagram TBT!_ "

Teen Vogue wrote innocently enough, only mentioning the pair being friends and colleagues since at least 2011. That's all there was to it.

 

> " **Victor Nikiforov just posted a TBT of friend and photographer Katsuki Yuuri and we are LIVING FOR IT.** "

Buzzfeed had all but shouted from the rooftops, complete with a summary of their "bromance," links to both of their public Instagram accounts; and a major shoutout to Yuuri for "being the spicy katsudon that he is" and a thank you to Victor for "showing us the light."

 

_You **do** post a lot of pictures of katsudon._

 

Yuuri wasn't sure if he should be mortified or indebted as his follower count jumped from just under thirty thousand to over one hundred thousand in the span of an hour.

Victor is somewhere around twenty million. He's surprised and confused that Yuuri hadn't hit one million by the afternoon.

 

_As of last night your Instagram count is nearly six million. Yes, I checked!_

 

"Don't make me go out in this." Victor pouts. "Let's just stay in the dressing room all day." he side-eyes the champagne on ice on the edge of his makeup stand.

 

_And_   _pop open that bottle of Dom Perignon, reminisce on how we have come this far, confess my undying love, and live happily ever after._

 

"You and I both know that won't happen, Yakov would hunt you down first." Yuuri teases, swiping the hat and sticking it on his own head. "If you think it's that bad then it looks-"

"Adorable," the taller man cheekily replies, barely acknowledging the blush creeping over his own nose. "On you. Come Yuuri, I'm sure you want to check the lighting before the show."

Yuuri was the official photographer for Balmain's show, a true make or break moment for his career. Of course Victor has every confidence the show will go off without a hitch; it _is_ him, Chris, and Emil after all- oh and one other seasoned runway model he cannot remember to save his life.

The "runway," though a better term would be an empty ballroom lined with chairs to form an aisle _barely_ resembling a runway, is something out of Versailles: gilded walls wrapped in filigrees, the ceiling adorned with mirrored tile and massive crystalline chandeliers. The floor length windows are drawn shut to hide the eyesore of an afterparty tent still under construction.

 

_They claimed it was to deter any unwanted media outlets from sneaking pictures. I'm sure it was true, but the tent was more important. Aesthetic, you know?_

 

Victor greets the tech manager, Michele, in the gallery where a makeshift control booth is facing the runway head on with a matching mesh curtain for good measure.

"It's practically nonexistent. We can communicate with Yuuri on the ground once the headsets are set up. For now we do things the old fashioned way." Michele grins triumphantly. "Only thing is the ladder, but I just roll it back up and try not to trip over it."

Yuuri, dressed in all black save his now signature teal blue scarf, gives signals from the floor until he is finally satisfied with a big smile and two thumbs up.

Victor cannot help but lean over the balcony and take in the space, a strong urge comes over him to cast all of the chairs to a long, straight table at the foot of the windows, to fill the ballroom floor with colleagues and friends dancing and laughing and drinking.

 

_And in the center of it all is-_

 

"Oi, you!"

Victor nearly bangs his head on the railing at the yell, while Yuuri's head snaps to the side entrance. "M-me?!"

"Who allowed you in here?! Private access only!" the man is shouting in _French_ , and continues yelling in various languages other than Japanese and English as Yuuri shakes his head and backs away slowly while the guard is ready to break into a run.

"He's with us!" Michele is yelling one decibel too softly, Yuuri is nearly in the center of the ballroom, and the man is getting angrier by the second.

Disregarding the drop, Victor hops over the side of the booth and slides down the rope ladder with the expertise of a stuntman. His hands are smarting and he's sure they are blistered if not bleeding. Good thing he's wearing gloves for the show.

 

_Don't tell Yakov._

 

"Hey!" the model barks, his posture rigid, the strong stride rivaling his runway walk. "He's with me!"

Before either know it Victor has become Yuuri's human shield, blocking the man's path with a wide, menacing stance. "Come any closer and I'll have you thrown out."

 

_It's strange what a mixture of love and adrenaline does to somebody. Friends will take on assholes together, sure. But... this was different._

 

"Why didn't you just say so Victor!" the man laughs heartily, reaching for a handshake. "Didn't mean to frighten your cute assistant, all good right? I mean-" and continues on a monologue worthy of Julius Caesar.

 

_You nearly had a full blown panic attack, it was not "all good."_

 

Victor makes no move to shake hands, his peripherals on a very scared and nearly breathless Yuuri. "Who is he again?"

Yuuri peeks around Victor's waist before leaning into his shoulder. "That's JJ Leroy. Was in that Giorgio Armani underwear ad a couple years ago." he barely whispers.

"Tell me more Yuuri. What do you remember?"

"-the best ever! So you're a fan? What's your name? My girlfriend was actually a fangirl before-" JJ continues obliviously.

"Minako directed that shoot, I was her assistant that day." Yuuri mumbles, his breathing slowly evening out. "It was... interesting. In preproduction anyway."

 

_See also: bad. Shit show. Tits up. Katastropha._

 

"Ah, yes. JJ." Victor finally makes the connection with a clap of his hands. "The one with the tramp stamp that takes the makeup crew three hours to conceal."

JJ's rambling comes to an ineloquent halt.

 

_No one has ever called me tactful. Certainly not after that._

 

Leroy's smile doesn't falter, though the Russian swears his right eye is twitching. "Glad I made an impression. Hate to cut things short, but I have to get to wardrobe- see you out there."

As soon as the other man is out of sight Victor's hands are clasped on Yuuri's shoulders. "Are you alright? Do you need water or gum or coffee-?"

The photographer shrugs them off. "I'll be fine. I was just... taken by surprise.

 

_as was I._

 

What about you?"

"Never mind me." two fingers gently pad at Yuuri's neck. "Hm. Your pulse says otherwise."

"Your _Mission: Impossible_ stunt says otherwise." he chuckles and gently lifts Victor's hand for examination. "We should at least get you ice to draw out the heat. Maybe some bandaids so the leather doesn't chafe your skin. It'll make things bearable for the show- we can properly bandage you up later at the hotel."

"We?" he grins with a twinge of teasing for good measure.

Yuuri waves his hands with fervor. "I-I mean you can do it yourself but I thought you'd like the help-"

Victor snorts at that. "Yuuri Katsuki: world class photographer certified in basic first aid. I'm in such good hands. ...Literally."

If he could capture Yuuri's sudden, surprised laughter in a bottle he would keep it for the sadder, lonelier days; if he had a camera he would take a photograph of this moment and keep it in his wallet until the colors faded and corners tore.

 

_If I could steal you away from the world I would. But then I'd do the world a great injustice by keeping you all to myself at the onsen or the apartment too big for just myself and Makkachin- which would be perfectly full if you were there._

_...if you wanted that sort of life, that is. Whatever you want Yuuri and you'll have it._

 

Victor notes that Dom Perignon makes for a great ice pack in a pinch as he watches Yuuri fumble through the first aid kit in the dressing room, drumming his fingers along the neck of the bottle. The butterfly bandaids span over his whole palm, and they're both grateful those ugly leather gloves will be useful.

"There." Yuuri finally confirms, slipping on the gloves carefully. "How's it feel?"

The model hums, "Much better," he flexes his hands and wiggles his fingers. "I will certainly survive until we get to the afterparty. You're going right?"

The photographer blanches, "I-I'm not that interested in partying."

"Oh? Why not?" cerulean eyes flash with mischief. "...Do you turn into a flirty drunk or an angry drunk?"

"Eh?!"

"At the end of the night would you be kissing me or fighting me, Yuuri." Victor winks as he leans in a little too close, close enough to catch the flecks of black around Yuri's eyes.

"V-Victor-"

"Yuuri! We need you in position!" Michele calls through his headset, Yuuri jumping back as if he'd be electrocuted. "...And tell Victor Christophe is looking for him backstage."

"Time to go, Victor." he mumbles with a scarlet flush on his cheeks, trading his scarf for his Canon with the same colored strap. Victor trails behind attempting to make a minimal amount of noise.

"Alright everybody for those of you that don't know me I am Michele Crispino, your eye in the sky for the today's show. We're fifteen minutes to showtime, ushers you may now open up the house. Mr. Schmidt, I will contact you with your ten minute warning the closer we get to the end. If anyone has questions please contact me directly. Have a good show everybody!"

Victor smiles sadly when they reach the partition, reaching for Yuuri's hand. "See you on the other side-" and suddenly two limber arms are clutching his neck like a lifeline.

 

_You were so forward, where did that come from?_

 

"Don't take your eyes off me, Victor." Yuuri whispers huskily. "Seduce me with all you have. Even in that stupid outfit." and just as quickly as Yuuri had held him he released him, slipping around the partition to the audience's delight and cheers. 

Victor can hear Yuuri's nervous laughter and see his slight wave and deep, grateful bow to the audience. It's not so much his trademark reaction to praise as it is his modesty and anxieties wrapped into one.

Christophe claps his friend on the back in his own [navy velvet robe](http://gq.co.za/wp-content/uploads/2015/08/BALMAIN-2015-Autumn-Winter-Collection-8.jpg)\- and not much else. "I told them the pants were too much. I'm making a creative decision, as for _you_ -"

"I know, I know," he groans. "Talk to me about it next year if I can find any work after this disaster."

And out they go, the rest of the night filled with blinding lights, bottles of champagne, and hushed snickering.

 

_I hate the media. I'm sure you do too._

 

"VITYA HOW COULD YOU?!" Yakov bellows the next morning to a very tired and hungover Victor.

Why did the room keep spinning? "Urgh, _chto eto_?" Victor pads into the living space of the massive hotel suite to find his exaspetated manager rising from the couch.

"Your little comment to Christophe? It got around." he snarls, shoving the iPad into Victor's arms with a headline from the Daily Mail:

 

> MODEL BEHAVIOR?
> 
> VICTOR NIKIFOROV BLASTS BALMAIN SECONDS BEFORE SHOWTIME, CALLING LINE A "DISASTER."
> 
> CHRISTOPHE GIACOMETTI ACCIDENTALLY FLASHES CROWD.

 

_Front page? Really? How slow was the news that day?_

 

"I meant the execution of the show as a whole. Not the line." Victor lies through clenched teeth, handing back the tablet. "This is all being taken out of context- I need to post a statement."

"I already did, as did Christophe and that photographer you love so much." Yakov rubs his temples. "Your tongue will be the death of us both, Vitya." and slams the door on his way out.

He knows Yakov means well. Sure, Lilia had plucked him out of obscurity and primped and preened him to perfection, but she was just... cold. That maternal instinct glowing from within Mama Katsuki and Mama Giacometti and even _Minako_ was nonexistent in Lilia.

As for Yakov... the majority of his cold exterior had melted away within the past few years. He was the one who made sure Victor was eating when half the studio wasn't, who would put his ego in check when the praise and invitations and royalties came in. He has arguably watched more potential waste away than anyone else in the industry; Victor knows tough love is his manager's way of saying he cares.

His phone chimes from the nightstand, trudging back into bedroom to retrieve it. He's not sure if he wants to see what it is.

He's been tagged. And trending. Kind of. #ihatethislook. Minako's tweet is at the top with some godawful dress from the early nineties.

 

> @m-minako-sensei: @v-nikiforov isn't the first to speak his mind. Daily Mail said I'd never work again. He'll survive. #ihatethislook

The picture was from the Daily Mail's Fashion Week recap, Minako had made an unflattering comment at an afterparty about the last Vivienne Westwood ensemble she walked in. She had also made a comment regarding Naomi Campbell's fall and criticized the photographers for their lack of empathy and assistance- it did not garner the same attention.

Christophe's handle comes next from one of his earlier shoots with Urban Outfitters; a _particularly_ offensive shirt even then he was against shooting. But he had to if he wanted to pay rent that month.

 

> @c-giacometti: So where was the press when I said #ihatethislook? Hypocrites everywhere mon ami @v-nikiforov.

Soon enough the feed is flooded with horror stories and ugly outfits from GiGi to Heidi, and Victor actually feels pretty good about the situation.

And then Minako DMs him:

 

> Hi Victor
> 
> Yuuri told me about last night, thought I could help make things a little better. No need to thank me, Yuuri has tenfold.
> 
> I doubt he realizes it yet, but I do. Be good to that boy, or I will hunt you down.

 

_THAT was more terrifying than any rejection I had ever received. Or Lilia. And you've worked with Lilia on many occasions._

_...So maybe Balmain was fun for all the wrong reasons. I nearly tanked my career, but I got to be your knight in shining armor for a couple hours. I got to watch Chris send two **babas** to the infirmary over his backside, and I earned your godmother's blessing two years too early._

_Think I can cash it in now?_

_-V_

 

"Ladies and gentlemen this your captain speaking, we are currently fifteen minutes ahead of schedule and in about thirty minutes we will be beginning our descent into St. Petersburg. To our business and first class passengers we will be doing one more round of complimentary drinks, to our passengers in coach... thanks for flying with Areoflot."

"Unreal." Yuri mutters with a quick kick to the chair in front of him.

"The only time they won't make me wait. At least when we're deplaning." Victor chuckles with a quick send. "Which means I only have half an hour for my last message to Yuuri."

"Not really, Katsudon won't be up for another couple hours. You know he'll sleep in whenever he gets the chance."

Victor smiles ruefully with a wiggle of his thumbs, "Ah yes, that's how he nearly missed last year's luncheon."

 

_I guess we've come full circle... I'm right back where I started..._

* * *

Yuuri clutches his phone like a grenade about to detonate and throws it across the bedroom onto Vicchan's old bed with incredible precision when it vibrates against the glass of water on his nightstand.

"Unless someone is dying or Victor is telling me he loves me, I'm not reading it." he groans before flipping over on his side and going back to bed for a whopping two hours of sleep.


	6. Vogue Luncheon, The Hamptons 3 July 2015

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Victor and Yuuri at this luncheon are nothing like the Victor and Yuuri from the luncheon four years ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ohhhhhh boy, this was hard to write. Please don't hate me for doing this to Victor. He's a model in this AU it was gonna come up one way or another.
> 
> PLEASE NOTE: Rating has been upped from General to Mature due to the contents in this chapter.
> 
> Enjoy!

Victor still thinks Americans are obnoxious.

This time around he's in mint green shorts and a white polo, with taupe boat shoes to tie the whole "My Daddy will sue you" look together. Christophe stands right beside him in the same ensemble only with lilac shorts and leather flip flops.

He doesn't recognize even a quarter of the people gossiping and drinking, and that's fine. The less people he was forced to make small talk with the better.

"Where's the kid?" Christophe mutters suddenly with a quick scan of the main entryway.

"Yuri? He's with Yakov unpacking. I told him we'd wait down here." Victor eyes the appetizer table before stealing a tray of meatball sliders for themselves.

The Swiss piles his share high on his plate, popping one in his mouth for good measure with an exaggerated moan. "I cou haf ses wih 'i sandwih." he muffles around bites.

"You've had sex with weirder things." Victor snickers and is rewarded with a whine and a slap on the shoulder. "Really Chris, what's that guy's name-"

"Victor!" a livid voice cracks.

"Ah, Yuri! There you are! Uncle Yakov let you out?" Christophe winks.

The blond haired, green eyed boy scoffs. "I'm not a child."

"You're fourteen. You're a child." Victor corrects him with a small smile, and it only enrages him more. "What do you want to do first?"

His feet are pointed towards the door to the gardens. "Maybe get out of this room, it's too fucking hot." the older men agree, slipping outside before anyone can notice. "This isn't what I thought it was going to be like."

"No one does at their first luncheon." Chris confirms with a sympathetic smile. "I nearly wore a suit but Victor talked me out of it- oh would you stop looking for him?" he chastises his oldest friend, who only smiles nervously. "Minako isn't here either, they might have skipped."

The last time Victor had seen Yuuri was at his graduation ceremony, surrounded by a sea of black robes and ear-splitting smiles.

 

_I was so proud of you- prouder than I had ever been for anyone, if I'm being honest. Besides, you should have someone there watching you._

 

Victor had asked the week prior, though he didn't expect the photographer to be so open. Despite Yuuri's critical and financial success, the Katsuki family had decided to watch the ceremony via livestream; they couldn't afford to close the onsen no matter how guilty they felt for not attending in person.

And that's where he came in, attempting inconspicuousness as best he could.

 

_I didn't realize if I had asked the staff would have assisted me in getting around._

 

Yuuri had also been insistent on not receiving gifts, but Victor disregarded the boy's wishes and bought him a new camera bag anyway, an [ONA Union Street](https://www.onabags.com/store/messenger-bags/the-union-street.html?color=walnut&gclid=Cj0KEQjwofHHBRDS0Pnhpef89ucBEiQASEp6LGdcPG4-sfONufGSY775ARaC4tFjo8rWXZ79UVxJzQMaAnl18P8HAQ), along with a new lens. The younger man had nearly fainted from shock.

 

_It was too perfect to pass up, I don't care how much it cost; you'll have them for at least ten more years._

 

Victor hasn't heard from Yuuri since.

That was a month ago.

"Didn't he want to take a break?" Chris continues on, "Y'know, go back home and see his family?"

Victor chews at his lip. "He did mention taking a couple weeks off- and Hasetsu's cell phone service is lackluster at best..."

" _Then stop complaining_." Yuri snaps in lightning fast Russian. "Shouldn't you take a break too old man?"

Victor nearly bursts into tears, flinging his arms around the boy's shoulders. "Yuuuuuuuri! You wound me so!" his grip tightens when Yuri attempts bucking him off.

Chris pays them no mind, his ear straining to pick up the sudden commotion inside the lobby. "Guys?"

"-ack! Sorry!" a muffled voice can be heard, " _Modotte_!"

"Guys."

" _Ikou, senpai!_ " a brighter tone laughs amongst the sudden gasps and curses outside the door.

"Guys!"

The distressed voice only grows louder, "Oi don't _encourage_ him-!"

"Oh c'mon he's harmless!" a tenor voice joins the fray, its owner flinging open the double doors to the patio.

Before Chris realizes it a younger Japanese boy, a boy whose nationality he couldn't exactly place, and of course-

"VICTOR!" three very different voices ring out.

Cerulean eyes snap to a very casual, and very red faced, Yuuri at the foot of the stairs. "Yuuri!" he gasps, "We didn't think you'd make it!" he all but drops the younger Yuri in a heap.

"Hi Victor!" he wheezes when the taller, stronger man grips him in a hug. "Can't breathe-!"

"G-Gomen!" Victor unlatches himself with a guilty smile. "See? I'm learning!" he had made a personal goal to know at least basic Japanese by the end of the year.

 

_Because what's adding another language when you already know Russian, English, and French- and semi-fluent in German?_

 

Yuuri's mouth quirks upwards in a smile. "Yes, yes you are- you remember Phichit right?"

"How could I forget?" and that is enough of a cue for Phichit to sling an arm around him and squeeze him in a hug. "Good to see you! Congratulations on your internship!"

"Thank you! It's been amazing so far!" Phichit's smile could outshine the sun, Victor swears it. "It's a miracle Jaqueline even let me leave the office- but when I told I was friends with Yuuri and knew you by association she said I just had to go. Oh! And this is Yuuri's assistant Minami."

"Phichit..." Yuuri warns, though it's more like a whine. "Uh, yes, Minami is technically my intern for the summer..."

Minami has been, apparently, uncharacteristically quiet since they arrived. With a screaming red streak against his dirty blond hair Victor agrees the personality doesn't match the exterior. "Hi! I'm Kenjiro Minami, rising freshman at Kansai University in Osaka! I've been following Yuuri's work since his freshman portfolio- he's amazing!"

Oh. There it is.

"That is Chris Giacometti- hi Chris~!" Phichit waves enthusiastically, earning a kissy face in return. "And the blond is...?"

"Oh! This is Yakov's nephew, Yuri!" Victor slaps the kid on the back. "He's here on vacation. Don't mind him."

"Oi, old man, I'm learning the family business!" Yuri snaps, "This is all mine to uphold once the old man retires! Yakov told me if I can handle this asshole, I can handle anything."

Yuuri and company look on in pity, while Victor feels like he's been struck by a bus. "So cruel, Yuri oh so cruel."

"Say Minami, Phichit?" Chris' smile is warm, though his grip on Yuri's shoulder is vicelike. "We should show you around the grounds, maybe give Victor and Yuuri time to catch up?"

Phichit claps his hands with fervor, steering Minami back towards the lobby as Chris snags Yuri by the arm. "Absolutely, excellent idea! We'll check in later. Have fun!" and the older two steer the teenagers inside without so much as a wave.

"...How was Barcelona?" Yuuri finally asks.

"Oh Yuuri-!"

For what feels like forever the pair walk in tandem through the gardens. Victor animatedly recounts his and Chris' week in Spain with different voices and choreography, Yuuri soaking up every word. It pays to work with your best friend, the older man insists, because then it doesn't feel like work.

 

_It's like that when we work together, too._

 

He spends a good half hour venting about the Canadian model that nearly put Yuuri into a hospital bed last year-

"JJ?" Yuuri smiles sympathetically.

"Yes! Yes him." Victor snaps his fingers in realization. "He has a camera now, and a nice one too- not as nice as the one Lilia made you buy in Paris, but he was photographing everything. He might give the industry a run for their money."

Yuuri gulps at that with a terribly fake smile, "Let's hope not."

"Oh the pictures were awful, no one captures beauty like you do Yuuri." the model is earnest if not adamant in his statement. "Did you bring your camera by the way? I need a private shoot." he winks, the rush of red filling the younger man's cheeks two shades shy of a cherry.

"I-I don't know if we can get away with that." the younger man stutters. "You're the most recognizable face here."

"And you are the most sought after photographer in the country." the model smirks, leaning in closer.

Yuuri tries to back away, except doing so will only send him into a rose bush. "We've been gone too long, someone's gonna ask where we are-"

"That doesn't mean we have to stay here." Victor's fingertips ghost over the photographer's cheek. "What say you, Yuuri?"

And not ten minutes later Victor happily transforms into Yuuri's doll, caught between splashing in the waves and sinking into soft sand.

"Victor-"

"Call me Vitya."

Yuuri flushes once more behind his Nikon. "I don't think that's a good idea." the camera shutters softly in agreement.

Victor resists the frown tugging at his mouth; instead focusing on the black swim trunks clinging to Yuuri's hips in an uncannily feminine way. "All my friends call me that."

The photog snorts, adjusting the sharpness of the lens. "Not Chris. Or me."

"You consider me a friend?" for a second time that day Victor feels the air sucked out of his lungs. The first being Yuri elbowing him in the sternum.

"Of course I do!" amber eyes peek around the camera, color fading from reddened cheeks. "A friend that I only get to see once or twice a year, but still a friend." Victor hums in agreement. "I mean, I see you all the time- social media is a wonderful thing."

"But it's not the same." the model rolls languidly onto his back. "I know. That's why I like to keep you all to myself when we're together. Is that bad, Yuuri?" he purrs.

 

_Given you rarely post anything on your personal accounts I would say I'm more deprived of you than the other way around._

 

"V-Victor!" Yuuri gasps.

 

_Now is the time, just say it, say it-!_

 

"I-"

"Stay just like that, the sun is perfect!" the younger man shoots his hand out as if it'll freeze time and the model himself.

And Victor laughs as if his life depends on it, positive he will cry or shout into the void if he doesn't, eyes locking with the lens and never letting go.

Sometime after that Phichit and the young boy from earlier, who Yuuri quickly reminds him is Minami, join them for a quick selfie and a light snack.

Victor declines when he's offered chocolate and granola. "I'm trying a gluten free diet." he claims.

Two hours fly by in a matter of minutes, his sense of time always warped whenever Yuuri pulls him into his orbit. He's not sure how he ended up on his stomach sprawled out on the edge of the waves; he only knew that Yuuri was happy and crouched on his haunches just far enough away that he couldn't be touched.

 

_Oh did you drive me mad that day._

 

"Yuuri! Victor!" Chris finally finds them around sunset. "Yakov's looking for you!"

"Can you help me gather up my stuff?" Yuuri asks as politely as one can when scrubbing sand off their legs. Chris' smile is fond and quickly piles up Yuuri's clothes and camera bag, tossing Victor his clothes a good couple meters away from the water.

He gives a self-indulging smirk when he rises to grab his shorts and shirt, again in black Speedos-

But then the sky flips upside down. He groans and curses himself for being so careless, though it seems Yuuri hasn't noticed yet. Chris, however, raises an eyebrow. He only shakes his head and staggers to his feet. "Chris-?!" the world is spinning around itself. He can only hope the sand is as forgiving as it was when he sunk to his knees.

"Victor?!"

And then everything is black.

* * *

"-u let him out?!"

"I'm- ...y!"

"Shh! Vic-...?"

That's all Victor needs to hear when he finally wakes up to know that something is terribly wrong.

" _Blyad_..." he mutters, rubbing his head until he hits a sensitive patch of skin. "Ai!"

The hospital room is small at best, and minuscule at worst; yet it is still packed with fuzzy bodies and muffled voices.

"You idiot!" Yuri Plisetsky's voice finally rings out from the doorway before he storms out. Victor can vaguely make out Yakov trailing behind him with a stern lecture on his tongue.

The room finally comes into focus. Chris is leaning against the foot of the bed with a stern, if not disappointed, grimace; meanwhile Yuuri is tucked away in the chair on the other end of the room half asleep.

 

_I must have scared you. I_ knew _I'd scared you._

 

"You fainted. You've been out for hours." Chris' voice is terse, if not constricted by sheer will. "I thought you were past this."

Victor winces not because of the words, but the IV jabbed in his arm.

 

_Well, maybe the words too._

 

They knot up in his throat, choking him. "It was an accident-"

"Victor. You blacked out in Paris too. And in Shanghai last month- let alone what happens when you're out of the public eye." the other model's tone darkens. "What have you eaten today."

"I had an apple."

"Okay, good. What else?" Victor averts his eyes, and it only angers Chris more. "Victor."

"... _Das ist alles._ " he mumbles with a hint of shame.

"Can you tell me what you had for dinner last night?"

 

_I didn't eat anything the day prior_

 

The silence, and Victor's guilt, is deafening.

" _Mein Gott_." Chris hisses through clenched teeth, turning back to make sure Yuuri's still asleep before ripping into Victor. "Do you know how scared he was? Certainly more than the first time-!"

The words are too fast and his head hurts too much to comprehend the accented English spewing from Chris' mouth. "Wait- the first time?"

"At his first luncheon? You passed out on the beach and we had to drag you back to Yakov! Why do you think the old man's kept such a close eye on you since?"

 

_Oh NOW it made sense._

 

"I told Yuuri you were narcoleptic! You don't even know what that means!" Chris  
pushes his palms into his eyes.

 

_I know what it means now!_

 

"Chris, I'm trying." Victor grits out, shifting his line of sight to Yuuri. "Is that what you told him this time?" Chris' silence is the worst possible answer. " _Blyad."_

 

_So you know by now that I have, yes have, an eating disorder. It's not as clear cut as others, it's not as noticeable as others, but it's there. The doctors call it atypical anorexia nervosa. I won't bore you because Chris mentioned explaining it to you that night, but it's essentially anorexia without appearing anorexic._

 

"I have to go." the younger man bites at his lip. "The agency wants me in Manhattan by noon." he points to the clock over the door rhythmically blinking '8:08'. "Take care of yourself, Victor. I'll text you later."

And then it's just Victor, Yuuri, and what feels like a chasm dividing them.

He knew, he must have. Victor berates himself, suddenly vulnerable. Suddenly scared. What will Yuuri think of him now? Of twenty-six year old Victor Nikiforov, who eats like a vagabond, drinks until dawn, and is in a constant state of _never being enough._

 

_Not pretty enough_

_Not built enough_

_Not happy enough-_

 

"Vitya?"

The look on Yuuri's face shatters Victor's heart. He's barely awake, but the cogs are already turning. Maybe trying to gauge the situation. Maybe how to escape while saving face. Maybe maybe _maybe_ -

"How do you feel?" he presses on. "Do you want food? Or some water? Wait, I should find Yakov and tell him you're awake-"

"Yuuri. Just... come here." Victor sighs, his hand outstretched. He's surprised when Yuuri's hand curls over his wrist, turning it over to examine the IV. "It doesn't hurt."

"...How long have you gone through this?" Yuuri whispers, in awe or horror Victor cannot tell. His index finger lingers over the blue vein, thick and prominent.

 

_You always surprise me, Yuuri._

 

"Since I was sixteen, I think?" Victor knits his brows together in recollection. "The first agency I went to thought I was a girl. I didn't correct them- they told me to lose five pounds by the end of the week. So I did. Then they claimed I shouldn't eat during my shoots. So I went days at a time on just lettuce, peanut butter, and water. I didn't know any better until Lilia and Yakov brought me on. But the damage was done. Two years was more than enough. So... I've dealt with it ever since. I'm better than this time last year, but old habits die hard."

"Did you relapse? ...Did being here," Yuuri waves his hand generically, "trigger you?"

"No, no." he insists. "Location doesn't trigger it."

"...Did I do this?" Yuuri is barely audible and Victor's heart breaks for a second time that day. "I noticed- um, that you don't eat much around me. I didn't want to say anything-"

"Absolutely not, Yuuri." Victor's answer is firm, but soft. "No, you make me feel much better."

 

_I don't think I told you this, but the last time I ate and didn't feel terrible about it was in Hasetsu._

 

"...It comes in waves?" Yuuri asks softly and he simply nods. "Hm. ...My anxiety is like that too." the younger man clears his throat. "We'll get through this."

"I know." Victor wants nothing more than to assure Yuuri he will be fine, that this is an overreaction on Yakov's part and he should be out of the hospital in time for the fireworks that night. But the words don't come. "I know." is all he can say.

"Mr. Katsuki." Yakov is curt, but not rude, as he stands in the doorway. Victor is not sure how long his agent had been standing there, but it couldn't have been too long if the younger Yuri is nowhere in sight. "Go back to the hotel, boy, and get some rest- your other friends are worried."

Oh that's right, Phichit and Minami had been left to fend for themselves yesterday. He had isolated Yuuri. Unintentionally, yes, but Victor still feels guilty for his selfish tendencies.

 

_Is it bad that I wanted you all to myself? Even if it was only for a few hours?_

 

Yuuri gives a sheepish reply to Yakov and one more reassuring smile to Victor before he leaves, closing the door behind him.

"Vitya-"

"Yakov please-"

"You're going to listen to me this time-"

"I lost track of the time-"

"I'm putting you on probation."

"HUH?!" Victor squawks, snapping to attention.

"No shoots, no shows, no appearances. Six months. Your upcoming events have been cancelled, it's all been handled. Now-"

"I'm twenty-six- I'm not a child." he bites out, his fingers picking away at the tape holding his IV steady. "How am I going to live? What am I going to _do?!"_

 

_Yakov claims at least once a week I will put him in an early grave. I genuinely believed I would that morning._

 

"I'm your manager and your agent- not to mention the closest thing to a parent." the older man chastises him, and Victor suddenly feels a numbness similar to someone dunking him into an ice bath.

"...And I have tried my hardest to make sure you live through this for nearly ten years. I'm sorry Vitya, but you've left me no choice." Yakov's signature frown is softened by his words. "As for what you can do... Take some classes, we can get you a dietician, and-"

"Spend time with Yuuri?" Victor asks hopefully.

Yakov's scowl reappears. "Absolutely not. He just took a position with Lilia in Paris. If you followed him, it'd look like you're backing out of your contracts to spend time with him. And just because you said that, no social media. For the next month or so anyway."

"Will you tell him that?"

The older man is rarely ever guilty, but in that moment he can't look Victor in the eye. "...He already knows. Chris and Yuuri agree it's for the best. _I_ know, Vitya, that you love him... yet I suspect he doesn't know that. I know I told you many years ago not to love so carelessly. But it's been four years. I think you're ready." he attempts to joke.

"I will not tell him I love him and then disappear. That's selfish." Victor snaps. "If I feel the same way this time next year... Then I'll tell him. Only then."

 

_I don't think I've said it yet. How many thousands of words yet I haven't said the most important four?_

_I love you Yuuri._

_I've loved you since the day I met you._

_My love for you grew every day in that year I was gone._

_And I will continue loving you until we're old and senile- and then I'll fall in love with you all over again._

_And if not... well, it's better to love and lose than to never have loved at all._

_-V_

* * *

Victor is being shoved into a cab by Yuri when he hits send, his heart bursting with elation and dread. He tries not to think about it, the idea of rejection, of a life without Yuuri, as he flops on the hotel bed.

'He who hesitates is lost.'

It's the last thing he thinks before a deep, dreamless sleep washes over him.

* * *

_VRRRRR! VRRRRR! VRRRRRRRRRRR!_

"WHY PHICHIT?!" Yuuri flings back the covers with a wail.

It's too early to wake up, but he knows if he goes back to bed he will be late for his contract negotiation with Chanel. May as well return the favor...

He snatches up his phone from Vicchan's old bed, a strange ritual he started in college to feel more comfortable traveling abroad. More like home. He hisses at the brightness of his screen, squinting to see Phichit's flurry of emojis and whatever was so goddamn important to text literally all night.

Only there's no kissy face, teal dress, and dancing lady.

It's a long-ass phone number that is definitely not American, or Japanese for that matter.

 

_Yuuri-_

_I have five hours to tell you how I feel. I don't know how I'm going to do it, but I will try anyway._

_I guess it starts at the luncheon for Vogue..._

 

"Oh shit." Yuuri jams his glasses over the bridge of his nose, eyes scanning over the very blue, very long message bubble. There's a small break indicating another one, and he's not sure how long it goes on for.

But If he didn't know any better, that was Victor's number.

"EEEEHHHHH?!?!"

Yuuri's hands are shaking as he frantically pushes Phichit's number, the words tumbling out faster than he can think them, "PHICHIT I'M SORRY-!"

"-Yuuri what's wrong?!" Phichit's tinny voice is worried if not terrified.

"Victor- Victor texted me!"

"And?!"

"...I have a lot of reading to do."

"Huh?"

He's _definitely_ going to be late for that meeting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I originally wanted a darker backstory for Yuuri, but Victor gets it because we all know Yuuri's anxiety is his worst enemy. Yes, atypical anorexia nervosa is a thing.  
> For suffering through this chapter you get not only Yuuri's reaction next chapter, but also an epilogue chapter! ...get ready for the tears and the fluff bc hoooooooly mother of Skywalker it's gonna be fun.


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